The Mailman in the Storage Room
by squintsicle
Summary: A body is found in the Jeffersonian; the team is stumped on cause of death while dealing with various obsticals including a new intern.  Time Frame: inbetween 6x01 and 6x02 when Booth gets back from Afghanistan and Brennan returns from Maluku. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

The Jeffersonian December 24, 11:38pm

It's a quiet Christmas Eve at the Jeffersonian. The buzz of the work day has dissipated leaving the unlucky Cam alone to give the new squint a tour.

"Alright, I suppose that's everything," Cam sighed as she picked up an empty box.

"So, should I leave?" Brookelle stutters as she motions toward the exit.

"If you'd like."

Brookelle begins to step away when she hesitantly asks, "May I stay?"

"Sure, I could use some help getting the lab ready for the morning," Cam said optimistically. "Can you go up to the supply room and get me two boxes of gloves?" She shook the box and dropped it in the trash can.

"Of course!" She smiled vigorously, "But first, can you tell me where that is?"

Cam laughed and said, "Top floor, follow the signs."

Brookelle smiled, smoothly spun around and started on her way, "…Right.."

She began humming.

She reached the corner and broke out in a musical frenzy, dancing and skipping, singing "Thriller" down the empty hallway.

She stepped into the elevator and stood anxiously for it to reach her floor.

When the doors opened, she stepped out to a dounut shaped floor plan, and walked ¼ of the way around the center portion to the only door. She grabbed the handle and pushed it open. With her gaze locked on the floor in front of her, she made only a few steps before an eerie breeze sent shock through her nerves. A deep pool of crimson disguised the center of the floor.

The hairs on her arms stood at attention.

"I have not even started my first day and the drama is already upon me," She whispers in a ghostly tone. A smirk appears on her face as she looks up to the celling above the puddle. The cork tile, saturated with blood, rendering only one drop every few seconds. "Sweeeeeet." She says. Then her intuition kicked in and it occurred to her that she should tell Cam, so she whips out her phone and calls the Jeffersonian.

She taps her foot as it rings… No answer, so she quickly redials.

"Hello?" Cam answers, "Who is this?"

"Brookelle! It's an emergency!"

"What?"

"It's an emergency!"

"Can you tell m-"

"No, you really should come."

Cam hangs up and makes her way up to the supply room. "Brookelle, this better be import-" She lets her jaw drop in surprise, "Okay, it was important." She answered herself. Just then the bloody tile sags and gives way to a partially decomposed body that plops itself into the biohazardous puddle.

They both took a step back. "This is so much cooler than lab!" Brookelle said with her nerdy swagger. Cam laughed and stepped out to call Dr. Brennan.

When Cam left, she stepped over and grabbed the two boxes of gloves. She opened one up, put a pair on, and ventured to the body. She could definantly tell the victim was male. He was wearing tan pants that were way too big for his size. She started sifting through his pockets to see if she could find any external identification. She pulled out a black leather wallet; the contents were typical, driver's license, credit card, and cash.

Brookelle was reading the license when Cam walked in and said with disconcert, "What are you doing!"

"Oh! I was just looking to ID the victim." She said with excitement. The look on Cam's face brought her back to earth, "That's not my job is it." She blushed as she shamefully handed Cam the wallet.

"Dr. Brennan will be here shortly."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Jeffersonian December 25 12:25am

"So much for having Christmas off," Hodgens sympathizes as he fetches rubber gloves.

"Yeah, I was just starting to relax!" Angela replies over the noise of the industrious interns. The pair attempted to ease themselves into the human barrier around the body.

The commotion among all caught Hodgens attention.

"So the body just fell out of the celling?" said one squint.

"That's what I heard!" another imparted, "In the supply room!"

Just then Dr. Brennan arrived.

"Alright," she said as she parted the sea of lab coats, "let's get started. Someone remove the clothes for Hodgens and get going on some ID material for Angela."

At her command, the army of squints split up and got to work.

"So… a murder… in the Jeffersonian? Ugh, and a fresh one too!" Hodgens said as he waved his hand in front of his face trying to waft away the smell of death, "Considering the amount of flesh left, I'm placing time of death, four to six weeks ago."

One of the interns handed him some evidence bags containing the clothing as he began to walk away.

"Merry Christmas…" he said in an acrimonious tone.

"Dr. Brennan! You're here!" Cam chirped as she passed Hodgens in the opposing direction.

"Of course I am." Brennan stated, "What did you want to show me? Other than this dead body."

"The one who found it, your new intern!"

"Oh, great. A new squint." Booth rolled his eyes as he entered the lab.

"Brookelle Shrapnel," she interrupted as she extended her hand toward Dr. Brennan. "Master of Science from Strayer University, as well as graduate of Henry Lee's-"

"Institute of Forensic Science!" Dr. Brennan finished her sentence. "So you are the young, adept genius! Henry himself came here to request your intern position. He speaks very highly about you!"

Brookelle blushed, "I wanted to be molded and shaped in to what he sees me to be. He told me I inspire him. I'm his protégé."

"Well it seems to me that he has molded and shaped you into the ideal anthropologist," Brennan said rather sincerely.

"Thank you." Brookelle smiled.

Trying not to ruin the moment, Cam quietly said, "Angela, this may be of help to you," she handed her a tray, "all the contents of our victim's pockets."

"Hey, a wallet, maybe it has a-"

"Driver's license. Yes, it does. The wallet belongs to a man named Joshua? I only looked at it for a brief second before Dr. Saroyan took it." Brookelle interjected.

"This might be the easiest identification I've ever done. Joshua Fodder, all his information is right here." She flipped the card over so everyone can see.

"I have my doubts…" Brookelle muttered.

"What do you mean?" Booth questioned.

"Well…Dr. Lee taught me that if evidence is found 'too easily,' remember that criminals are sneaky. So I do have my suspicions." She paused, and then walked over to the table grabbing a scraper and bag.

"May I?" she made allusion to the body.

Dr. Brennan made a motion of approval. Brookelle began to scrape a thin layer of flesh off the victim's thigh and put it in the bag. "I'm going to bring this to Dr. Hodgens. He is our source for fiber analysis, am I correct?"

"Yes, one of the many things he does," Cam confirmed.

"Then I will be back." She smiled and left. When she was just a few feet away, she stopped and twirled back around, "Where might I find him?"

The group collectively pointed to a door in the opposite direction she originally began walking.

She blushed at her own arrogance.

Hodgens office 12:58am

"Excuse me Dr. Hodgens?" Brookelle inquires as she navigates through the office.

"Yes, what do you need?" He replies as he turns a corner nearly knocking her over.

"Sorry!" they both laugh.

"Well," she began, "I don't think those are our victim's pants."

"Why so?"

"When he fell from the ceiling, his pants were practically falling off. Like they were way too big."

"He was decomposing. That could be a contributing factor to ill-fitting clothing." He said harshly.

"No," she said confidently, "May I see the label of his shirt?"

"Um, sure." He handed her the bloodstained shirt. "Why-"He stopped himself and smiled, "You're on to something."

"Just as I suspected." Brookelle bragged, "Gucci."

"What relevance does that-"

She stopped him with a hand motion, "The trousers please?"

"Ha! It's some no name brand. I brought you this to tell me if you find any more luxurious fibers than polyester." She held up the bag of flesh, "Like maybe denim, or even cotton."

"Okay but it's gonna take a little while. Can you tell me what you're thinking?"

"If a man is wearing Gucci, he obviously has money. He's not going to own a cheap pair of oversized, no name, polyester pants. I bet he doesn't even shop for himself, his wife does, and she's not gonna pay for those pants. Trust me, I would know." She preached confidently. "My freshman year of college, I double majored in science and fashion."

Hodgens laughed at her sass, "So you think someone switched his pants?"

"Most definitely."

Dr. Brennan's office -

"So this new intern," Booth meditated, "She seems to know her stuff."

"Yes, I believe that! I'm rather appeased to see someone so young, with such a wealth of knowledge, and eager to put her intelligence to good use." Brennan replied.

"She almost reminds me of you, Bones. You two seem very similar."

"I don't see it. I have very dominant cheek bones, and hers are rather recessive. We don't even—"She was interrupted when Angela came in and changed the subject.

"Joshua Fodder, fifty year old mail man in D.C." she stated.

"Great, so we can get started on the investigation." Booth interrupted.

"Not so fast." Angela sighed, "He lost his house to foreclosure nine months ago, so we have no current address for him. However he does work for the post office so you could still ask around."

"Let's go." Booth said anxiously.

"Booth, it's 1am. No one's going to be around." Brennan informs.

Angela yawns as she exits, "Don't remind me."

As she shuts the door Booth says, "I wasn't talking about her bone structure, I was talking about her intelligence and personality."

Booth's car 3:42am

The car was silent with fatigue when Brennan's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Brennan!"

"What? Hodgens is everything alright?"

"Everything is just dandy. The driver's license is not our victim's."

"What do you mean?"

"These aren't even his pants!" he exclaimed, "I found tons of surprising evidence that contradicts our conclusion."

"Spit it out Hodgens." Booth interjected.

"I found hundreds of cotton fibers on the skin Brookelle gave me, indicating that he was wearing something else! She's amazing!"

"So that's why she wanted the victim's thigh…" Brennan smiled, "That's why he wasn't reported missing, because he isn't!"

"For a girl wearing a pink bow, she's a lot smarter than she looks."

"We'll go talk to this Josh guy. I mean if the victim's wearing his pant, he probably will know who he is." Booth stated.

"Exactly." Hodgens confirmed.

Post Office 4:01am

Brennan and Booth exit the car to a quiet, empty street.

"Where is everyone? Shouldn't they be here by now?" Booth asks rather impatiently.

They stepped up to the locked post office and tried to see through the fog their breath created on the icy cold glass.

Brennan yawned as she caught a glimpse of a sign posted on the door saying, "Happy Holidays!"

"Booth! It's Christmas!"

He grunted in frustration, "Now what do we do?"

"You get extremely impatient when you're tired."

"What? No I don't."

"Yes you do. Maybe you should go see Sweets. Get some breakfast, hunger is also a factor to your irritability."

He rolled his eyes, "Bones, I'm fine."

They began to make their way back to the car.

"Drop me off first." She demanded as she closed her door.

"Where?"

"The Jeffersonian! I really should be examining the remains."

"I'm not going to Sweets by myself; it's just a waste of my nerves."

"Oh, I wasn't going to send you alone, I know you don't like it when he puts you in 'awkward situations.'"

"Who are you try—"

"Brookelle! I mean he wouldn't try to encourage anything like 'that' if she's there too."

The car grew silent.

"Also she should get to—"

Booth interrupted, "Whatever Bones. I think she should be in the lab but, you're the genius here."

"I know I am." She smiled as they reached the Jeffersonian, "She'll be out in a minute."

Booth slumped down in his seat as he watched the large doors swallow his partner. He closed his eyes and began humming "Don't Stop Believin'."

His humming turned into singing. He got so engulfed in the song that he was startled when he heard knocking. His eyes flew open to see Brookelle and her bright pink earmuffs turning into a squintsicle before his eyes. He hiccupped as he unlocked the door.

"Omg! It's so cold out there!" Brookelle shivered.

Booth was silent.

She smirked and said, "Dr. Brennan told me to ignore your negativity."

Booth tried to be silent until he hiccupped.

"So why do you have to go see a shrink?" She tried to make light of the tension, "Do you have psychological problems?"

"My problems are none of your business." He said sternly as he hiccupped with a straight face.

"Well, Agent cranky pants." She mocked.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Diner 4:40am

"Why are we here?" Brookelle inquired, "This doesn't look like an office building."

"It's not. It's a diner."

"That didn't answer my question."

"Why do you ask so many questions? What, are you writing a book?" He says as they entered the diner.

"No, not currently. However, eventually I do plan to write an autobiography, so some details are potentially critical." She said as she took her seat.

Booth laughed, "She would have answered exactly like that…."

"What! Who?" Brookelle gleamed.

"Sweets!" Booth yelled, over her question, at Dr. Sweets as he entered.

"Agent Booth, why did Dr. Brennan want us to meet so early?" he paused as he reached the table, "Wait, you're not Dr. Brennan."

"No, she's not. Bones thought I was being irritable, and would rather be checking out the dead guy. So, lucky me, I'm stuck with the squint and the shrink." He pointed to each.

"Brookelle Shrapnel," she stuck out her hand, "pleasure to meet you."

"Lance Sweets," he said as he took her hand and kissed it, "pleasure is all mine."

Booth rolled his eyes, "Sit so we can get this over with."

Sweets took a seat next to Brookelle leaving Booth across the table by himself. The waitress took their orders, and Brookelle decided to take the first words.

"I'm kind of disappointed! I wanted to see the inside of an FBI building." She pouted at Booth.

"Yeah, you're _just a squint, _you belong in the Jeffersonian." Booth dissed.

Brookelle stuck her tongue out at him as he gave her the 'don't you sass me young lady' look, "How old are you, four?"

She stood up, put her hands on the table, leaned forward so she was in his face, and said angrily, "For your information, I am nineteen and eleven twelfths and I am _this_ close to my PhD. I have higher degrees than you could count in high school!" she sat down and grabbed her orange juice, took a swig and said, "Get at me."

Booth raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak when Sweets swooped in and stole his thunder, "Whoa there! You two are like father and daughter, bickering! I sense deep emotional tension, you guys are gonna meet with me more often…. You're only nineteen?"

Brookelle giggled, "There's no 'deep emotional tension' he just really needs a better attitude." She crossed her arms then smiled and said, "Yes, I am only nineteen… I know what you're thinking, how could I possibly almost have my PhD. Relatively easy, actually."

Sweets raised his eyebrows in interest, "Really? Go on." He propped his elbows on the table and rested his head on his fists.

She smiled, "Gladly. I've been in the talented and gifted programs since the first grade. At age seven, my parents took me for my first IQ test; I scored way into the genius range. I skipped a few grades here and there, did sixth grade online one summer, and graduated high school as valedictorian. Youngest in my class, I was only sixteen years old. No one wanted to hang out with me because I made them feel stupid… It wasn't my fault they were unintelligent! It didn't bother me, I didn't need people they're sketchy and unreliable. They were just going to slow me down anyways. I finished six years of hard core college in three. Isolation was definitely a good choice then."

"Wow," Sweets said as the waitress brought their food over, "So you didn't have any friends? Like, not even one?"

Brookelle took a moment to swallow her French toast. "Mm, actually I had a boyfriend. We were both leads in the high schools tutoring program, we helped kids with labs and dissections."

"What year?"

"He asked me out his senior year, I was only a freshie." She paused to take another bite. "I can't believe I actually said yes. We were leading a cat dissection with the senior class, and he made a totally freshman mistake…"

"And….?" Booth and Sweets said in harmony.

Brookelle rolled her eyes, "He cut too deep, ruptured the cat's bladder, and squirted formaldehyde all over me."

Booth started laughing loudly and hysterically, while Sweets was obviously biting his tongue.

"And what did you do!" Booth laughed.

"What any good scientist would do." She said with poise, "I wiped it off my face, I explained to the others why that had happened, and took over the dissection, because he _obviously_ was incapable of continuing."

Agent Booth finally began to regain his composure, as Sweets made an observation.

"You know, that's exactly what Dr. Brennan would have done."

"You're right Sweets." Booth said with a softened heart, "I guess you're alright. You're kinda like a mini Bones, or a Bones in training."

Booth used his fork with a piece of soggy waffle on it to point at her, "For a squint, you aren't half bad, Brooke."

She gagged on her juice.

"Don't ever call me Brooke."

Sweets wrinkled his brow.

"EW, I just hate it when people call me that. Brookelle is much more professional. But, if you're gonna give me a nickname, make it a good one." She smiled.

"Hmmm." Sweets decided as he wiped his face with a napkin. "I', gonna make that my project for the week."

She smiled.

"Alright, it's about time I return my squint back to the Jeffersonian." Booth said excitedly.

"OK. We'll do this again next week." 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Sweets." "Let's go Brookelle." Booth said as he walked away.

Brookelle slipped out of the bench as she began to put on her coat. When she finished adjusting her scarf, Sweets said, "If you really want to see the inside of an FBI building, call me." He handed her his business card. "We can have coffee or something."

She smiled as she put her earmuffs on. "Thanks Lance." She said as she started to walk away, "but I'm more of a hot chocolate kind of girl."

"Hot Chocolate sounds good too…." He said as he smiled at her through the window.

The Jeffersonian 5:40am

"Hmm", Cam took her eyes off the bones. "There are several nicks in the anterior lateral ribs."

Indicating that the victim was stabbed," Dr. Brennan concludes. "Also, the victims shoulder has been dislocated." She pointed. "Judging by the stress tears in the tissue he had been dragged."

"So he was stabbed, dragged, and then stuffed in our celling?"

"It seems so; however those fractures were created with a dull object at a low force. That wouldn't have been able to pierce the heart."

"Okay, I found our victim… The actual victim." Angela said as she walked in, "Gunnar Lavender, also a mail man in D.C. He was reported missing the day after Thanksgiving by his wife."

"Ooh a Thanksgiving murder." Hodgens said with an evil smile, "That explains the tryptophan and peanut oil on his shirt and hands."

"How sad, he was murdered over dinner." Angela sympathized as Brookelle entered the room.

"What is she talking about! What did I miss?"

"Not much sweetie." Angela patted her on the back as she walked out.

The Jeffersonian 7:26am

The lab was silent with diligence when Brookelle popped a question.

"Since the body was found in the Jeffersonian…"

"Yes?" Brennan said without looking up from her work.

"…. Doesn't that make us incapable of completing the investigation?"

"No." Brennan said crisply, "What makes you think that?"

"Well, aren't we all suspects?"

Dr. Brennan paused a moment almost as if she was second guessing herself, "No, we had the weekend off. If anyone was suspect, it would be maintenance."

Brookelle looked at Brennan with concern.

"I can verify where I was."

Brookelle began to get back to work but, returning to her social nature, had to break the silence.

"Why do you and Agent Booth go to a psychologist together? Are you two dating?"

"No, why do you ask so many questions? Are you writing a book?"

She smiled, "Not yet, but eventually I do plan on writing an autobiography, so some information is potentially vital."

Brennan nodded and the lab grew silent.

"You would totally be cute together…. You'd make pretty babies too."

Brennan looked up at her with one eye and smiled.

Booth's car 8:00am

"Wow! He must have worked a couple of jobs to pay for this house," Booth joked as they got out of the car.

Booth and Brennan made their way up the walkway to the front door. He pressed the doorbell and they could hear a choir of bells echo through the walls of the massive home. After about fifteen seconds, a tall European woman in a red silk robe answered the door.

"I'm sorry, but we don't need your pamphlet. Your friends gave me one last week." She smiled and began to shut the door, when Booth put his hand out and said;

"FBI, we're here about your husband."

Her eyes widened, "Gunnar? Come in! Is he alright?"

They proceeded inside to the living room. It was enormous. A twenty-four foot tree consumed the center of the room. It was topped with an angel surrounded by ivory ribbons that cascaded to the floor. Hundreds of white, twinkly lights occupied the branches.

"Beautiful tree." Brennan said as she stood at its base admiring the glittery ivory ornaments.

"Thank you." She smiled, "How are you two exactly, directly, involved with my husband?"

"I'm Special Agent Seely Booth and this here is my partner Doctor Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian. We believe we've found your husband's body."

"Actually dental records confirm that they are in fact your husband's remains."

She put her hands over her mouth and gasped.

"Do you know of a man by the name of Joshua Fodder?" Booth asked.

"Yes! He lives here; we took him in after he lost his house. Why?"

"Your husband was wear-"

"What's going on Lola? Why are these people in our house?" A young girl said rather defensively.

"Honey, they're from the FBI. Gunnar is dead…"

She flinched, "They need to leave." She pointed to the door.

"Adele, let them do their job." She put her hand on her shoulder.

"What do you want? It's Christmas you know! Did you really have to tell us today?" she said caustically.

'We would like to speak with Mr. Fodder." Brennan said sharply.

"He's out back chopping wood," Lola glanced at the sliding glass door.

"Bones, you stay here." Booth whispered as he got up and left.

"….. So your husband went missing the day after Thanksgiving?"

"Yes," Lola began, "when I woke up, he was gone." She sniffled and glanced at Adele, "It was so sudden…"

"What is _your _relation to Gunnar?" Brennan questioned Adele.

"I'm a foster child," She pouted, "Him and Lola took me in last year."

"I wanted a daughter," Lola stuttered, "I saw Adele and knew she was an immaculate choice to complete our life. She wasn't up for adoption so fostering her was good enough."

"What was the atmosphere like on Thanksgiving?"

"It was slightly tense," Adele said, "We had a fight that morning. He was yelling at me for being lazy, like usual. I yelled back, called him a few names, it really wasn't anything major. Stuff like that happened on a regular basis." She sighed, "He didn't really like me…"

"Honey, he loved you…"

"He never fully accepted me; he let me stay but didn't enjoy having me around."

Booth reentered, "Alright Bones, I think we're done here….for now."

Brennan arose from the big, fluffy, luxurious, white couch, "Happy Holidays."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Angela's office December 26, 4:55pm

"Angela, do you have any more people of interest?" Booth asks.

"Besides those two mailmen, no." she says as she sits on the edge of the table, "I'm still looking though."

"I think his wife Lola is one to keep our eyes on," Brennan states, "she is very suspicious to me."

"She's rich right?" Sweets questioned.

"Have you seen her house?" Angela exclaimed as she pulled up a photograph, "Yeah, she's a science fiction writer."

"Maybe a mailman was just weighing her down… And Dr. Brennan, didn't she love her foster daughter? And did the victim _not_ have the nicest feelings toward her?" Sweets led, "Maybe this girl meant more to her than her husband… I think she's a very plausible suspect."

All seemed to be in agreement.

"Okay, I think we're done for today," Cam sighed.

Everyone got up and began to disperse. Sweets ran to catch up with Brookelle who was eager to get back to work.

"Hey Brookelle!" He says as he slithers between Cam and Hodgens to get closer to her.

"Oh, hey Lance."

"You said nothing the whole meeting, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine I just have a lot on my mind." She half smiled, "And profiling is not my strongest asset! However you seem exceptional at it."

"Yeah," he said obviously trying to be cool, "It's no big deal. I'm really just a psychologist."

She began putting on her lab coat when she looked up to see him smiling at her.

"What?" she laughed.

"Oh nothing."

"Well I really should get back to the bones, it was nice seeing you again," she gleamed.

"You too…"

He sighed as she walked away.

The Jeffersonian 5:10pm

"I don't understand!" Brookelle grunts in pure frustration.

"What don't you understand Miss Shrapnel?" Cam replied.

"It's obvious our victim was stabbed, but whatever he was stabbed with wasn't sharp enough, nor had enough thrust to kill him." She sat down, "Even if the object pierced through the anterior lateral tissue, it could not kill him!"

"I know. Dr. Brennan and I are stumped as well."

Brookelle ran her fingers through her hair and shook it out, "I need some sleep."

"We're done here for today, we've done all we can. You may go home." She smiled.

"Really? Oh thank you so much! Have a wonderful evening Dr. Saroyan."

Angela's office December 27, 8:00am

"Brennan!" Angela runs to grab her as she walks by.

"Yes!" she said as she spun around.

"I was working on getting you a weapon, and I have a pretty good idea to what it is." She said as she made her way back to the screen, "Hodgens told me about the peanut oil and tryptophan on our victim's hands and clothing. Judging by the oil splatters, it seems to me like they were deep frying their turkey. None of the residue is splattered around the victim's wounds. However, there is a substantial amount of the same particulates inside all the punctures in the ribs. At first, I thought maybe a regular dinner fork but the nicks were too big and far apart. Then I tried a two-pronged fork, still no match. The object that could make those marks has to be a thin rod with a rounded point. I'm guessing a kitchen utensil."

"What kind of kitchen utensil is shaped like that?" Brennan looked confused.

"I'm not sure; I've never seen anything like it before."

"It would have to be metal or it wouldn't even pierce the skin… What size diameter?"

"Um, the size is consistent with a dull pencil. I can get the exact measurements if you'd like."

"No, thank you. That is good."

The Lavender House 9:20am

"So you were deep frying your turkey on Thanksgiving?" Booth imposed.

"Yes, Gunnar was." Lola replied, "Why do you ask?"

"May I see your kitchen?" Brennan asked rather bluntly.

"Oh, um, yes." Lola stuttered.

They all got up and moved to the kitchen.

Brennan ventured around the floating island and stepped up to the counter. She pulled open a drawer, and Lola became defensive.

"Excuse me! What are you doing in my cabinets?"

Brennan ignored her and opened another drawer.

"Hey!" she ran over and pushed Brennan, "I have welcomed you into my home and did all I can to help you! But rummaging through my drawers is crossing a line!"

Booth stepped between the two and held out a piece of paper, "We have a warrant; we were doing it the nice way."

The air grew thick when Brennan stepped away to sift through another drawer.

"Oh…" Lola said, obviously full of anger. She turned her back on Booth and walked over to the sink.

Booth leaned his hip on the counter top and glanced at Brennan who was diligently looking for evidence. When he looked back Lola, red with aggression, had taken a knife from the block, had it drawn back, and began to throw toward Brennan.

All at once, the knife left her hand; Booth quickly rendered his gun from the holster, aimed it at Lola, and yelled, "Bones! Get down!"

Brennan dropped to the floor and the knife stuck the wall.

"Put your hands up!" He yelled.

She growled at him like she was demon possessed. With the gun still pointed at her he stepped closer. Just then, Brennan peered over the counter to see her slowly reaching into her pocket to grab something.

"Booth!" She yelled as Lola thrust a pocket knife into his stomach. He quickly fired the gun and they both fell to the floor.

"Booth!"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Jeffersonian 9:40am

Hodgens, Angela, and Brookelle were having an intense  
>conversation about baby dolls when Ange left to take a call.<p>

"No, the ones that move and make noise are creepy." Hodgens  
>protested.<p>

"Alright, I can't argue with that... But baby dolls are usually  
>cute and-"<p>

"Guys!" Angela ran back into the room, "Booth is in the hospital!"

"Oh my God! Why!" Brookelle said with disconcert.

"He was stabbed." She said as she gathered her things to leave,  
>"Brookelle, can you go tell Cam to get ready? We're going."<p>

"Of course! Right away!" She said as she ran out of the room.

Chaos swept over the four.

"Okay, Brookelle I'm putting you in charge of the lab." Cam said  
>as they met at the door.<p>

Brookelle's eyes were wide with disbelief, "Me? I thought I was  
>just an impotent intern?"<p>

"Yes, but at times like this, I need you to step up and be a  
>leader. We'll be back in an hour or so."<p>

"Oh, okay!" Brookelle stuttered as they walked out, "Call me  
>with updates!"<p>

She closed the door and sighed, "Ohh I hope I don't screw this  
>up..."<p>

Hospital 10:24am

"Brennan!" Angela yelled as she spotted her in the waiting room.

"Angela." She stood up and hugged her.

"Did anyone tell Dr. Sweets?" Cam asked.

"Yes, he's pacing in the corner over there." She pointed to the  
>obviously upset Dr. Sweets.<p>

"What happened?" Hodgens asked.

"Lola started throwing knives and Booth got all protective over  
>me... He shot her the same time she got him..."<p>

"The doctors said he's gonna be okay." Sweets said as he finally  
>joined the group; "If he didn't shoot her she would have totally<br>destroyed Dr. Brennan..."

"I can fight for myself! I'm not a child like you!"

"Did you find the murder weapon?" Angela asked.

"No, I only got through three drawers."

"Dr. Hodgens and I'll go down and take a look though I'm sure  
>Forensics already has their hands on the scene."<p>

They all sat in silence until the doctor came.

"He's awake now, you may come in if you'd like."

Brennan glanced at the group. Angela motioned for her to go,  
>"We'll visit later if he's up to it."<p>

She arose and went with the woman.

Halfway down the hallway, the doctor said to her, "You're  
>'Bones' I assume... He really wanted to see you. The moment he opened<br>his eyes he was already asking for you. You must be very special,  
>Bones."<p>

"Don't call me Bones."

"Bones!" His face lit up when she entered the room.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright. I'm better now that you're here." He flashed his  
>charming boyish smile and patted the space next to him on the bed. She<br>came over and sat next to him.

He put his hand on her leg as she rested her head on his  
>shoulder and said, "You're going to be okay."<p>

The Jeffersonian 7:20pm

Brookelle finished cleaning up the lab for the night when she  
>decided to go find Angela.<p>

"Hey Ange?" She called as she peered into her office.

"Yeah Brookelle? I'm over here." She stuck her hand out from  
>behind a large screen.<p>

Brookelle ventured around to find her.

"What's up?" Angela asked as she sat on her desk.

Hesitantly Brookelle replied, "I was wondering if you could  
>give me some advice..."<p>

"Sure thing! What do you need?"

"Um..." Brookelle seemed bashful as she looked down nervously at  
>her feet, "Um, well... What do you do when a guy is obviously<br>attracted to you and you kinda turned him down, but now you find that,  
>well, he's kind of on your mind a lot?"<p>

"Well it depends. How long has it been since you 'turned him  
>down'?"<p>

"Like two days?" She stuttered nervously.

"Do you have his number?"

"Yeah, he gave me his business card."

"Call him. He thinks you're not interested. If necessary, ask  
>him out."<p>

"O-okay."

"Don't worry sweetie. You're smart, kind, beautiful, he'll  
>totally say yes. My bet is he still has feelings for you." Angela<br>smiled, "Be confident. Nothing is sexier than a confident woman."

"You're right." She nodded as if she was giving herself a pep-  
>talk in her head, "I will. I'll call him."<p>

She looked determined as she left her office.

Brookelle's apartment 8:53pm

She quickly unlocked her door and blew in. She stripped of her  
>outer wear and plopped herself on the couch. Almost as quickly as she<br>sat down, she jumped back up and started pacing the kitchen.

"Do it." She said to herself. "The office is probably closed by  
>now, so you won't even have to speak to him directly!"<p>

She grabbed her phone and dialed the number.

"Confidence is sexy. Confidence is sexy." She repeated to  
>herself as she stood up straight and put on the most confident front<br>she could.

It went to voicemail and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Hey Lance, it's Brookelle. I've been thinking about what you  
>said the other day. Maybe we could have lunch sometime. Um, you can<br>call me- or text me when you get this message... So yeah, um, bye."

She hung up and banged her head against a cabinet, "Oh I hope  
>that sounded okay..."<p>

The Jeffersonian: December 28, 7:55am

Angela was making coffee when Brookelle came in and hung up her  
>coat.<p>

"Woahhh. Hey hottie!" She smiled as she turned around.

Brookelle smiled and looked down at her outfit. She was  
>wearing: a colorful feather choker; a tight, black, three-quarter<br>sleeve tee; a black leather skirt with seven zippers; black lace  
>tights; and glittery four-inch pumps. She timidly looked up at Angela,<br>"Is it too much?"

"No! You look uh-mazing." Angela laughed, "Why so dressed up?"

"No reason..." She smirked.

"You have a date!"

"Mmhmmmm!"

Angela ran to hug her, "So you called him!"

"Last night I left a message and like five minutes later he  
>called me. We're going to lunch."<p>

She seemed to glow as she smiled.

Lab 8:30am

All seemed frustrated in the lab when Hodgens ran in and stirred  
>up excitement.<p>

"I found it!" He exclaimed as he ran in and clicked his heels.

"What? The cause of death?" Cam said sarcastically.

"The weapon." he wiggled an evidence bag.

All crowded in to take a look.

"Um, this is an internal cooking thermometer." Brookelle said in  
>a tone of confusion.<p>

Hodgens gave her a look of 'duh', just then her face lit up and  
>the lights went out.<p>

After a few moments of awkward silence, Brookelle burst out in  
>excitement.<p>

"AN INTERNAL COOKING THERMOMETER! Omg, that makes so much sense."

The flood lights went on when Angela entered with a flashlight.  
>Everyone was so entangled in Hodgens' discovery; they didn't even<br>notice her entry.

She came over and tapped her husband on the shoulder, "You guys  
>don't even care that we have no power?"<p>

"Oh, hey Ange! I didn't really notice." He scratched his head as  
>he looked around.<p>

"What's so interesting that you were working in the dark?"

"I found the murder weapon."

She shined the flashlight on the bag.

"Wanna know where I found it?"

"Sure, why not."

"In the basement hidden under a big metal bucket used to fry  
>the turkey. There's no visible blood on it, but I know one of you<br>nerds would want to test it." He held out the bag.

"Yes, I do!" Brookelle snatched the bag from his hands and brought it  
>over to a table. "I'm so excited!" she chirped as she set up the<br>camera on the tripod.

"Luminol..." She said as she opened up a solution bottle. "I've  
>always wanted to do this in a legit scenario. I did an experiment on<br>how temperature affects the chemiluminescence of luminol in the fifth  
>grade."<p>

"As a class?" Hodgens asked, "That's kinda advanced for fifth  
>grade don't you think?"<p>

"No, it was my science fair experiment. And yes, I am rather  
>advanced."<p>

She took the thermometer out of the bag and sprayed it with the  
>solution. She started the time-lapse photo and stepped back.<p>

"We have ideal room brightness for this."

"Why does it glow like that?" Angela inquired.

"I'm glad you asked!" Brookelle smiled, "The luminol molecule  
>reacts with hydroxide molecules to form the dianion. The dianion<br>reacts with oxygen to form 5-aminophthalic acids and nitrogen. The  
>oxygen is formed from the hydrogen peroxide, with the iron acting as a<br>catalyst. The electrons in the 5-aminophthalic acids are in a highly  
>unstable, high energy state. When the electrons return to their normal<br>ground state, they release a photon of blue light!"

Angela's eyes were wide, "I didn't understand a word you just  
>said."<p>

Brookelle laughed, "Iron plus luminol equals a simple chemical  
>reaction, which means pretty blue light!"<p>

"Oh, okay." Angela laughed sarcastically.

A moment later, Cam's phone rang.

"Snow storm, the power is out in half of DC."

"Does that mean we get to go home early?" Hodgens joked.

"If you can get out, then yes."

Everyone scattered.

Brookelle got her jacket and stood in the lobby. She needed to get a ride, so she called Sweets.

"Hello this is Doctor Lance Sweets speaking."

"Hey Lance! It's Brookelle!"

"Oh! Brookelle! Hey, what's up?"

"Obviously you have power at your office; we lost power at the Jeffersonian so Cam let us out early."

"You guys don't have a backup generator? That's what we're on."

"No, I guess not!" she laughed, "So what should we do about lunch, I bet the diner has no power?"

"How 'bout you come here and we can iron out the wrinkles?"

"Eh, small problem. One of those wrinkles is I have no ride. I take the train and walk every day."

He laughed, "Yeah, you're not walking in this weather. I'll come pick you up. I'll be there in ten minutes."

FBI building 9:01am

"Here we are!" Sweets said as he handed her a visitor's tag.

The look on her face was one of a kid in a candy store.

"Enjoying it so far?"

"Oh yeah, I have to admit though, I'm kinda bummed that the secret agents don't wear sunglasses all the time." She giggled.

"Oh and one more thing," he sighed, "I have a meeting in a couple of minutes. It shouldn't last long but once it's over; the day is ours."

"No worries," she smiled, "I'll be fine."

"Here's my office." He said as he turned the key.

"Oohh! An office with a view!" she said as she walked up to the windows, "Wow, it's really snowing bad."

"Alright, the phone is over there. If it rings, don't answer it. But if you need me, the extension to the meeting room is taped to the desk. If you need-"

"I'll be fine." She shooed him away, "Go do your thing."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Sweets' office 9:30am

Sweets walked eagerly to get back to Brookelle. When he arrived she was laying on the couch with her legs hanging off the edge. She was drawing something and singing "All I Want for Christmas is You," Mariah Carey style.

"So you're a singer too?" he smiled.

She smiled at him from a slightly upside down perspective and giggled, "Did I forget to mention that?"

She sat up straight as he came over to sit next to her.

"I checked power outages on my iPhone, there's no power at my apartment."

"Oh that gives me an idea!" he exclaimed, "We can go to my place for lunch! What's your favorite food?"

"So you're a chef now too?" she giggled, "I'm easy. Grilled cheese."

His mouth opened in disbelief.

"Where have you been all my life?" He muttered under his breath.

"Hmm? I didn't seem to catch that."

He stuttered a few lines of gibberish trying to cover up his desperate comment, "Oh, it was nothing…"

Brennan's apartment 9:42am

Dr. Brennan was busying herself with work when she called Cam with a query.

"Do we have the victim's medical records?"

"Of course we do! Why do you ask?"

"How many times have you gone through them?"

"Several times! Very thoroughly… Again I ask, why?"

With a tone of irritation Brennan sharply replied, "I would like to see if he had any pre-existing conditions, possibly helping validate a cause of death."

"Oh, he has several, however none of them could have been fatal."

"Send them to me. I'd like to have a second opinion."

"…Who's opinion?"

"Mine."

Sweets' apartment 11:20am

"Here we go." He said as he brought two cups of hot chocolate to the coffee table in front of the couch, "Whipped cream?"

"Ooh! Yes please!"

He came back to the couch with a can of whipped cream and topped both his and her cups off. He placed the can on the table and sat on the couch next to Brookelle.

She extended her cup toward him, "To adventure."

He smiled and tapped his glass with hers, "To adventure."

After he swallowed, he sparked a conversation.

"So, where are you from?"

"Cow town."

"Huh?"

She laughed, "A small 'Farmville' kind of town in Connecticut. In the eighteen hundreds, farmers came from as far away as Litchfield and New Haven to herd livestock. " She smiled as she took another sip, "Oxford, the home of lots of cows, and not many people. We literally just built our own high school like five years ago."

"So where did you go to high school?"

"I went to a small private school in a neighboring city."

"And what inspired you to come to DC?"

"Oxford just got, well, small. I needed to utilize my intelligence in a bigger, more brilliant environment. So here I am!" she laughed as she flipped her hair, "UNH was amazing for my bachelors and masters, but the college I really wanted to get my PhD from has a campus here. It was a great opportunity; I really couldn't pass it up."

"Oh!" he seemed intrigued, "What were your majors?"

"Freshman year I doubled in Fashion Design and Chemistry. Then I dropped fashion and kept with the science. I have my masters in Bio-Chemistry, Biological Anthropology, and Psychology. Right now, I am actively working on my PhD in both Chemistry and Anthropology. Some think I should have continued psychology, but my logic was what job has more action."

"That's hot…" he mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Nothing!" he quickly responded, "Um, you hungry?"

"Yes actually."

He got up and took out the bread.

"So you're a singer?" She inquired.

"Yes!" He yelled as he accidentally tripped over nothing and dropped the knife he used to butter the bread.

"Yeah, actually I play keyboard in my, um, band." He tried to say smoothly.

"Oh really?" she said as she turned around and rested her arms on the back of the couch, "That's kind of a turn on… I've always wanted to be in a band."

"It is? It is!" He put the food in the skillet and moved to the other side of the counter, "Maybe you could sing with us sometime."

She stood up and leaned up against the back of the couch, "Maybe I should."

"You know, my birthday is in two days," she said sweetly, "I'm turning twenty."

"I did not know that." He said as he moved closer, "Well, what should I get you?"

"Ohh, I don't know," she grinned rather deviously as she fiddled with his tie.

"Your posture indicates sexual implications." He smirked.

"What makes you think that…" she giggled as they both gave in to the gravitational pull, leaning into kiss.

Just like in a cliché film, the atmosphere had to change from romantic to frantic. However in a modern way, just as their lips were about to touch, the smoke alarm went off.

She gasped to see the poor grilled cheese, flaming on the stove top, "Where's your fire extinguisher?"

"… Under the sink… next to the stove…" He shook his head at terrible can placement. "Don't panic! Uh, just try to stay calm!"

She quickly ran out the door, "There's probably one in the hallway!"

She zoomed back in with a big, red, forty pound can. She pulled the pin and gracefully, seemingly effortlessly, extinguished the extremely over-done cheese. As the extinguisher's cloud reached them she began coughing then laughed, "Mmmm. Don't you just love the taste of dry chem?"

With wide eyes, Sweets managed to spit out a sentence, "I don't even know how you reacted so quickly."

"I'm a third generation firefighter. No worries, you're safe with me."

He smirked at her as he picked up the can and began to lug it back out to the hallway.

"The next time you offer to cook for me, don't be offended if I politely suggest take-out!" She cutely stuck her tongue out at him.

The Jeffersonian: December 29, 8:00am

Angela, Brookelle, and Cam were standing around the remains talking when Sweets came in with a coffee cup.

"Good morning!" He said cheerfully.

"Um, Dr. Sweets, good morning! What brings you here?" Cam looked puzzled.

"Oh, I just wanted to give this to Brookelle." He handed her the cup.

"Hot chocolate?"

He smiled and nodded.

She got on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, "You're the best."

His smile widened, "See you later."

She smiled and waved.

Once he was out of sight, Brookelle turned around to see her boss in total shock and Angela trying not to be a giddy school girl.

"What?" Brookelle laughed.

Cam was speechless but Angela's mouth could go a million words per second.

"Awww! You two are sooooo cute!" Angela shrieked, "Oh my god! So how did it happen?"

"After a fire, and an adrenaline filled frenzy, one thing led to another and…" She blushed and sipped her cocoa.

"_Adrenaline filled frenzy!"_ Angela smirked, "Tell me everything."

Brookelle smirked, "Now don't you be jumping to conclusions!"

"I found cause of death!" Brennan exclaimed as she rushed in. She ran to the table and laid out some papers, "Tetralogy of Fallot."

Cam began, "But the victim had corrective surgery at a young age, so-"

"Yes! However I did some research that shows the condition can re-emerge due to sudden trauma later on!"

"So he was stabbed which triggered a fatal heart attack." Brookelle said softly.

"Essentially." Cam assured.

"Not _essentially_, Dr. Saroyan that _is_ what happened." Brennan corrected.


End file.
